


All the better

by catbuttermargerine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Implied Sexual Content, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Party, Red Riding Hood Elements, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 15:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbuttermargerine/pseuds/catbuttermargerine
Summary: Iris will make Cor enjoy Hallowe'en, whether he likes it or not.





	All the better

**Author's Note:**

> Might have accidentally challenged Pookaseraph into doing a halloween fic.  
> Might have accidentally agreed to write one too.
> 
> Originally inspired by [this tweet.](https://twitter.com/idegldio22/status/923471846174945281?s=09)

“Do I _have_ to wear this?”

“Just put it on, Cor. For me.” Iris glanced up at Cor through lowered lids, her eyelashes long and dark against her milky skin. A sudden lump formed in Cor’s throat and he swallowed hard, tearing the costume from its hanger to start dressing.

  
Cor had never done anything even remotely to do with Halloween since he was very young. It had been a great excuse, when he was still a kid, to go out and get given food by strangers with none of his peers giving him a sideways glance for it. But once he’d joined the Crownsguard it did nothing but shine a torch on his relative childishness, not something he particularly wanted to make a thing out of. And he hadn’t the need to get grabby anymore. After all, they fed him well enough; he’d no complaints there. He was too young, too, to join some of the parties the older boys threw surreptitiously in their rooms. Parties called legendary for months after, where many a girl got their first feel of a Crownsguard’s touch.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look cute,” she replied, straightening his ears. “It suits you.”

  
Cor wasn’t so sure it did. The oversized ears were one thing, the tail that Iris would not stop petting was quite another. But it was the collar that felt weirdest, replete with lead and shiny tag. When Iris had said he’d be wearing a dog tag it wasn’t quite how he’d imagined it.

“I’m not sure the big bad wolf wore one of these,” he said, tugging on the thick strip of black leather.

“I’ve domesticated you now,” came her mild reply, “and plus, it’s not the big bad wolf. You’re thinking of the pigs. You going to blow my house down?"

He smirked at that, bringing his hand up to push stray strands of hair away from her face. “Something’s going down at least.”

“That joke doesn’t even make sense, you dork.” She covered his hand with her own. “You’re not gonna guess what I’m wearing?”

“Well, I know you’re not going as a pig."

"Could be. Pretty sure I’m getting eaten either way,” she said, grinning at him before doubling over with laughter as he grabbed at her, strong fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her waist.

  
It was under the cool glow of streetlamp that Cor admitted that this was not the dorky holiday he'd always assumed. Or at least not as dorky. Iris was alight, bending at every crowd of very small humans to offer them a dip in her basket; they snatched with greedy hands at the candy hidden under the neat checkered cloth she'd covered it with.

"Why do you do that?" he asked finally, after she got cleaned out of her supply. 

She shrugged. "It's nice, I guess."

"Yes, but why?"

Her mouth covered with a mitt-covered hand, she giggled her reply. "Not everything you do has to have a reason beyond 'being nice is nice', you know."

  
They continued to walk along in a comfortable kind of silence, Iris in clear admiration of the effort people went to in decorating their homes. Hallowe'en had been a Thing back in Insomnia, and slowly over the years the dispersed citizens had started to celebrate it again. Not much at first, just a pumpkin with a scary face carved into it, but over time there had been lights, and tricks, and parties, and costumes--

  
Cor looked over Iris' outfit once more. That had been the thing that convinced him it wasn't a massive waste of time after all. She was wearing something that was short and red and that was enough for him, really; he was gone just from looking at the way her thighs disappeared under the short circle of stiff, heavy fabric. The cape she fastened around her neck did little for the cool night air but served well in framing the smooth surface of her skin and the curve of her bust.

"Oh," he said with sudden realisation, "you're Red Riding Hood."

"You only just got that?!" she exclaimed, throwing a rogue boiled sweet at him. "Kind of feel like I should be offended here. Well, at least you didn't say _Little_ Red..." She smiled at him sidelong, suddenly feeling rather shy. "It was always my favourite when I was a kid."

  
"I've got to dress up as your grandmother before being brutally murdered? Fun."

"No, not that..." Iris chewed inside her mouth on the flesh of her cheek. "I'll tell you the real version, later. It's not fit for company."

They'd agreed to attend a party thrown that night by Gladio and Ignis, Iris readily so and Cor with some cajoling. It was once they arrived that he really found out what he was in for.

"Close your eyes and stick your hand in here, Cor!" she squealed, grabbing his hand and thrusting it into a bowl for him.

"They feel like lychees," he replied, removing his hand and sucking sticky juice from them, "or grapes, I guess. Why do you..."

Ignis rolled his dead eye and sighed. "They're supposed to be eyeballs. It was Gladiolus' idea. He insisted..." He pointed at the extensive scarring across his face, the faintest smile quirking around his lips. "I don't think he's quite made the rather macabre connection yet."

The next bowl was filled with spaghetti that was still vaguely warm, "Let me guess, it's the contents of the hair trap in the shower."

"What?" Iris dropped his hand, aghast. "No! How could you... It's quite clearly earthworms." She peeled off a glove and shoved her own hand in, noting with curiosity that they'd gone for a rather controversial bolognese. "Look, wiggly squiggly worms. See?"

"Good sauce, Ignis."

"Thank you, Marshal."

Iris led Cor away from the clearly unhelpful Ignis to attack the next party game. "What's next," she hissed, scanning the room. "Apple bobbing. A game of skill and accuracy. Perfect for you."

Cor swiped at the water and with ease plucked an apple from the surface, biting into it with a satisfying crunch. It was, like so much fruit nowadays, made of wax. "This is terrible," he complained, politely spitting it out. "The food you can't eat is delicious and the food you're meant to eat is disgusting."

"That's why it's so scary, dumbass. Anyway, you're doing it wrong." Demonstrating proper form, Iris reached behind her back to touch fingertips to each elbow and then bent neatly at the waist. "Like this." She craned her neck, standing on tiptoes to reach deeper into the barrel. That's when Cor saw, not for the first time that evening, the flash of her panties underneath her short skirt, the curve of her butt. He stepped closer, a hand pressed into her hip.

"Did you see?" she whispered against the water when finally she felt him pushed up against her.

"Everything," he replied.

"Good," she breathed, and he was suddenly so close to her, not close enough. She abandoned the fruit, turning in his arms to feel him pressed into her hip, firm and unyielding.

"What big eyes you have," he teased, towering over her. His fingers drew up her mouth to his and he takes a kiss that leaves her panting.

"All the better to see you with," she replied when they broke for air, "and that's my line." 

"Iris, you came!" The moment was broken, and with monumental effort Iris managed to not snap back at her brother, _"not yet!"_

"As if I wouldn't," she hummed sweetly instead, "chance to get hyped up on jelly babies and way too much pudding? Who do you think I am?"

Iris dragged Cor with her as she presented them both to Gladio. He had eased into a strained kind of acceptance of Cor, specifically Cor with Iris, something she countered by acting as normal as possible. As a result, get-togethers were occasionally gut-churningly awkward with Iris nonchalantly ignoring any atmosphere. She was good at pretending.

"Prom wants a ghost story session. You got any good ones?" 

"Oh, me? No way." Iris could be counted on for a decent story, but never anything spooky. She preferred the thrill of being scared by something she didn't know was coming. "You've heard all of mine. Try someone else."

"Hmm." Gladio took a moment to frown before he looked to Cor, somehow glancing at him whilst managing never to look him in the eye. "How about you?" he asked finally.

"I may have something." He didn't avoid Gladio's look, smirking as he pushed past the younger man to take a seat.

There were assembled maybe five or six others who were looking increasingly tired of Prompto's "totally scary, honest," story about a being made of concrete and metal who would only move whenever nobody was watching. Cor felt the obvious solution would be to put the thing on camera and stream it to some bored teenagers. They'd watch anything.

There was a small gap on the sofa that was just big enough to Iris to squeeze into, and she felt herself pressed up against Cor's side, calf to calf, thigh to thigh. His hand rested on her knee, rubbing small circles almost unconsciously and threatening to push her skirt up beyond the limits of decency. 

She found herself leaning against him, listening to the deep rumble of his voice as he told a story that, she had to admit, wasn't completely terrible. The crowd about him sat in rapture as Cor told them, in his quiet, even way, about a haunted videogame cartridge. It was a ridiculous tale but even so, Iris shivered, a thrill of dread running down her spine.

"He never gamed again," Cor concluded with a grave finality, and Prompto let out a nervous giggle that revealed his usually bouncy demeanor had finally broken. The crowd broke into a fit of whispering, murmured agreements before the next storyteller stepped up.

 

"I thought you hated Hallowe'en," she whispered, leaning close to him. They were weaving their way through a throng of others on their ways home, some coming from a lantern festival in the town and others still from parties like the one they'd been to. 

"I don't hate it," he replied, finding her hand and covering it with his much larger one. "I just don't get it."

"But that story was really creepy! You're a natural for scaring people."

"That wasn't a story, Iris," he said with a seriousness she'd only heard once before, when he'd first told her he loved her. "That really happened. I should know."

"What?" She shoved him playfully. He didn't budge, but it felt good to tease him back sometimes. "Now you're being silly, Cor--"

"Am I, Iris?" He stopped in his tracks, the river of people diverting around him. "Can you ever think of a time you've seen me playing videogames?"

Iris opened her mouth uselessly once, then twice before answering. "I guess not, but..."

"Exactly," he says, eyebrows lifting just the smallest amount, his usual tell that he was enjoying himself quite a lot. Iris clocked it immediately and her mouth twisted into a smile, her eyes crinkling. He laughed and she stole the moment, lifting herself up on tiptoe to hold his face, thumbs smoothing over the rough fuzz of his beard before kissing him. His fingers pressed into the small of her back, holding her tight to him as she searched his mouth with her tongue, their lips brushing softly.

"I love _this_ you," she hummed, pulling back. "It's like a secret that only I get to see." 

"Don't tell anyone I'm fun," he replied soberly, pushing stray hair from her face. "I've spent years building this reputation. I won't have you destroy it overnight." The crowd surged and they began to move again, furtive looks shared every few moments between them.

 

"What was the story?" Cor asked as he waited, stretched out on the barely-wide-enough double they shared. It was another hot night and the covers were tossed aside, thrown on top of the furry ears she'd stripped him of. The rest of his clothes were long gone, divested by Iris in between long kisses to his mouth and to his body.

He lay in waiting, supine, lazily stroking his cock as he remembered the regal way she'd pushed him down before her barely three steps through their front door, the scrap of fabric that passed for panties pulled down to her thighs for him. He'd gripped her ass in place as he lapped greedily at the folds of her cunt and spent a luxuriant time at the nub of her clit, the flat of his broad tongue pressing against her until she came, joyously, painting her taste over his lips.

"Good wolf," Iris had crooned, petting his hair, his mouth. She leaned down to kiss him, slow and grateful and promising. "Bed?" And she had chased him to their bedroom, tugging clothes from him and leaving them like a trail through the cramped flat.

 

"Story?" she asked absently, rinsing out her toothpaste in the sink. 

"Red Riding Hood," he replied, "you said you would tell me the real story."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "well, as you know: the terrible wolf had been taking his pickings from the neighbourhood, eating scraps of Granny and bits of schoolkids, whatever he could find. But Red wasn't taking any of his crap." She unzipped her skirt and it fell about her in a ruffled circle of red velvet. The long socks were next, peeled from her thighs and rolled down her legs. 

"So she kills the wolf?" Cor asked, watching her unhook the bustier that went over her blouson. It is thrown across the room with little care for its eventual home. 

"No," she said, reaching behind her to undo the ties holding her top together. "Guess again."

"She tames him," he said, trying again. 

"Wrong, I'm afraid," she said, plucking her blouson from her skin to puddle on the floor. She picked her way carefully over her discarded clothes, naked save for the capelet that covered her shoulders and revealed just the soft undercurve of her breasts. Cor's fingers pulled at the ribbons tied in a neat bow at her clavicle, and it fell apart easily to bare her to him. His hands gripped her hips as she reached down, finds him with her fingers to guide him inside her.

"The wolf says he'll eat her and she just laughs. Her clothes are shed, the wolf is seduced." Her moan was breathy as he pushed up, feeling so full already. She ground out a slow, deep rhythm against him that left Cor clawing at her ass. "She joins him."


End file.
